


Tradition

by Maripose



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 09:16:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/951346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maripose/pseuds/Maripose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a cute story about a Pentecost/Mori tradition</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tradition

**Author's Note:**

> I just haven't written anything in a while and wanted something cute

She knocked twice and waited, hands folded behind her back and feet spread to shoulder width.

The door opened and there stood Pentecost, all clothes in immaculate order save his jacket which was laid across his desk chair. He stood back and allowed Mako entrance to his room.

She walked in and stopped, moving to the side to allow him to close the door before crouching down and taking her boots off.

Pentecost went over to his bed and sat down on it, laying a pillow from the head of it at his feet and opening his legs.

Mako finished with her shoes and walked into the bathroom off to the right.

“I’m not mad.”

Mako appeared in the bathrooms doorway and looked at the man on the bed thoughtfully, letting her shoulder bump up against the doorframe as she peered out at him, “You did seem so today.”

He sighed and rolled his shoulders, closing his eyes and avoiding her gaze, “Not mad. Never at you, Mako. Just worried.”

She took a step out from the doorway; brush clutched in her hand and pointed outward, her fingers gripped tight around the handle, “I am no child Stack. You raised me, but I am absolutely, unquestionably not a child anymore.”

He nodded, his eyes remaining closed and his hands curled around his knees, “I am aware, my dear. I still worry, as a father should, and as I always will.”

Mako’s hand went slack and fell to her side, “I’m sorry. I know we’re not supposed to argue, not now.”

Stacker’s shoulders loosened and his eyes opened, hands flexing once before relaxing too. He gestured to the pillow in front of him and Mako hurried over and sat, knees curled under her and propped up on her heels.

She held up the brush and Stacker took it, smoothing his hand along the worn wooden back once before wielding it and tapping her lightly on the head, “I also know of your admiration. Keep your mind sharp.”

Mako looked down at her hands as they lay upon her folded knees before nodding and tilting her head back up and looking forward.

Stacker smoother his free hand down the side of her head, “I do love you, Mako.”

The woman’s shoulders slumped and she smiled, “I love you too, father.”

The two relaxed as the first pull of the brush ran through Mako’s hair and caught the first knot. 


End file.
